Soul in the Nobody
by Mivo
Summary: Everybody has a soul, but is it possible to create one in someone that doesn't?


A/N: Normally I'm not a fan of fanfictions that follows the plot of the main games, the whole "saving the world from destruction" kind; there are a few exceptions however. But I've decided to do just that with my own tweaks in order to gain experience and skill in story-writing, with this being my first fanfiction and all.

And with that, I'll let your eyes feast upon this work, which I find rather terrible, but a few of my friends have peer-pressured me into continuing. =P

**Chapter 1: Family**

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Tristan awoke from his peaceful slumber with an alarming jolt, catapulting his once beloved plushies off from his bed, and colliding them against the wall at the end of his room. He quickly scanned the room in panic and fear of danger, but soon realized that the source of the godawful noise causing his awake was simply an alarm clock, ringing his eardrums and demanding absolute attention to inform him of the current time and date, as if it were the most important thing in the world.

Sighing, he reached over and gently pressed the button that would satisfy its craving, and proceeded to quietly sink back into his warm, cozy blankets, hoping to return to the realm of dreams, away from the current unwanted reality.

He was not pleased, not one bit.

Not because of the dreadful beeping of his small digital box that awoke him, or the time the blasted thing decided to go off, but because of the _day_ he now found himself in.

The one day he did not want to be in, oh how he wished this day would never come. He knew that it would anyway, no matter how hard he wished it didn't, but he still had hoped it wouldn't, just somehow.

Today was the day, at the age of sixteen, which Tristan would get his Starter Pokémon, and be forced to leave on a journey.

Unlike what you, dear reader, may think, not all kids wanted to go on a Pokémon journey, to travel the vast lands and deep oceans in search of rare and powerful Pokémon for their selfish needs, as Tristan saw it. To capture and trap them into tiny spherical balls of red and white, then hurl them into brutal battles that they would be forced to participate in, so that their owners can simply achieve a trophy of gold in their regional league tournaments, a declaration of their _superb abilities_ as a Trainer.

Some children wanted to stay where they were, content in their small, quiet towns or cities bustling with life and activity, spending time with friends and furthering their education for different career paths than to be a Pokémon Trainer, such as becoming lawyers or doctors, farmers or musicians (the usual, etc). There were even kids that wanted jobs that involved being with Pokémon, but not the traveling. There were Pokémon Doctors, Breeders/Caretakers, Scientists, and there were even athletes who competed _against_ Pokémon, and many more. Tristan didn't really know what he wanted to be yet however, with only a few ideas floating around inside.

But no, his proud grandfather wouldn't let him have any of that, he was going on a Pokémon journey whether he would like it or not. And he damn well didn't.

Groaning, he sulkily slid out of the comforts from the bed, stretching his small frame and clicking his bones to life. It seems dreamland wasn't returning anytime soon and it's not like he could escape from the fate bestowed upon him, not now. He had fought against his grandfathers decision before, several times, none of them had ever worked out, only lead to trouble.

Scanning his room again, he found his plushies now lying in a small pile against the wall in the corner, looking sad and defeated at what he had accidentally done to them. Clean clothes and other things littered on the hard, wooden floor, evidence of his work the previous night in preparation for today. He could see the curtains dance along the gentle breezes through the open window, glimpses of sunlight trying to enter his room, lighting up the place ever so gently.

Slowly, he made his way to the dresser to get changed, bitter thoughts swimming in his mind, followed swiftly by the sweet sound of beautiful curses that would make a sailor proud, as his feet became tangled and tripped, his face having a fateful encounter with the floor.

– – – – – – – – – –

The warm, sweet, and enticing aroma of pancakes wafted around the kitchen, floating along into the connecting rooms, giving the place a very morning-like feeling, accompanied by a soft, melodic hymning of a young woman, as she heartily cooked the delicious breakfast for her son.

Nowadays, she normally didn't make breakfast for the family anymore, as Tristan was now old enough to cook various meals on his own for them, albeit not perfectly. But she felt the sudden need to make something for him, one last time to taste her cooking before he left; the child always loved the meals offered by her.

"_I hope this cheers him up, even if only by a little bit..._" She thought to herself.

Tristan's mother knew how much he disliked the idea of leaving his hometown and traveling, staying behind as some of his friends left at the traditional age of 10.

Her father-in-law was, and still is, quite adamant that he should travel. They hadn't gotten along ever since he learned that Tristan didn't want to go, and had proceeded to give him countless, torturous hours of his speeches about their family tradition, saying that it had been their way for many generations now, where young children who come of age leave their homes to experience the world and leave their mark in it.

Now, after a few years, Tristan had finally given in to his Grandfathers demands, sick of hearing their family history, what their fathers did to leave their names on Earth, traditions that they kept and whatnot with other tidbits.

She closed her eyes and began to recollect the older, but sweeter memories. Memories of when she was young, traveling like all her friends had, exploring region after region and seeing the many wonders of the world, making and losing new friends, as well as rivals, human and Pokémon alike.

And when she grew older, she met a certain Gym Leader, whom was now her loving Husband. Oh how they would spend their days-

KA-THUNK

Snapping back into her world from her daydream, she was interrupted by a sudden loud noise from above, most likely from Tristan's room. Soon after, light footsteps could be heard rolling down the stairs and a short figure emerged from them and joined at her mother's side, bouncing excitedly as her blonde curls bobbed along, the irresistible scent of food having apparently beckoned her to come downstairs.

"Can we eat them now?" The young girl asked curiously.

"Wait until Tristan comes down, honey" She told Emily, but it didn't seem to upset her in the least as she continued to stare hungrily at the cooking, a smile stretching across her face.

At the age of five, Emily is the newest member of the family. She is the one that lifted the moods for everyone as they watch her express her happy and bubbly personality in various colorful, child-like ways. Seemingly having limitless energy as she ran and bounced over everywhere upon discovering something that ignites her easily excitable nature.

Just as she ran outside, having become bored from watching and instead wanting to sing about her love for pancakes and all things delicious mixed with her own gibberish, another pair of footsteps descended down the stairs, slower and slightly heavier than the first. Checking to make sure they were now thoroughly cooked, she slid it onto the large plate which had many piled already, turned the kitchen appliances off, and prepared everything onto the dining table.

"G'morn..." Was all Tristan managed to greet her with before yawning, stretching some more and scratching at his shaggy, black hair.

"You made breakfast?"

"Mhm!" She beamed.

"Hmph, you should have been up hours earlier." Grandpa David scorned, as he came around from behind the kitchen backdoor, holding an empty coffee mug in his hand and a newspaper under the arm, a cream-colored, feline Pokémon following closely at his heels

"Especially on a day like this"

"Just be happy that he's going, David." The mother huffed, hands on her hips.

Tristan simply ignored him, sitting down at his usual seat and digging into his meal while his mother called for Creamy, their pet Persian, placing a bowl of his own food in front when he came trotting over, and calling for Emily to come inside.

After another "Hmph," Grandpa sat opposite of him and began reading his newspaper, taking the typical elderly-man pose in the morning, wincing as the little girl came running back inside, squealing joyfully.

An odd feeling settled in Tristan's stomach, eating together with his family in the morning was quite rare, but then another feeling spawned, realizing that he wont be able to eat together with his family like this anymore, not for any meal. The thought made him feel... lonely.

Just as he opened his mouth to try and get out of this ordeal one last time, his Grandfather cut in, glaring. "No, I will not allow you to back out of this now"

Closing his mouth again, he quietly went back to resume eating, an awkward silence blanketing the group, besides little Emily's obnoxious way of eating. Feeling rather uncomfortable, he tried to get a conversation going, anything.

"So, when are we going to get my first Pokémon then?"

"You won't be needing to."

"What do you mean?" He asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Here." Reaching into the front pocket of his shirt, Grandpa fished out a minimized Poké Ball, expanded it with a press of a small button and held it out for him to take.

"I've already done the privilege of catching you one"

Tristan merely stared at it for a while. He had seen them before, mainly in PokéMarts when their mother occasionally took them along to buy certain medicines for their pet Persian, but never had he gotten the chance to actually hold one.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Emily looking at the Poké Ball both longingly and curiously. Half-expecting and half-hoping for his younger sister to just lunge for it, flee into her room, taking it for her to play with and freeing him from his impending doom. Unlike him, she seemed quite keen on the idea of adventuring.

Slowly, he moved his hand over to grab it, the surface feeling cold as he now held it in his hand. Surprisingly, it was lighter than he had it expected it, only by slightly, the red surface reflecting and contorting his face, staring right back at him. He briefly wondered if the creature inside could see him staring at it.

"What Pokémon is it?"

"See for yourself." Was all his Grandpa said as he nodded to the Ball while leaning against his arm in a relaxed position, smirking slightly.

Tristan felt as though this would be the final seal, that once he opened this Poké Ball, there was no way of going back. The thought of just throwing the thing away from him spawned in his mind, but his curiosity grew more stronger by the second, getting harder to ignore. Looking around, he saw that everyone, including Creamy, was staring at him now, waiting for him to press the button and release the mystery inside.

He pondered for a bit to think of any last methods to get out of this, but his mind betrayed him, not coming up with the slightest idea, at least, not any new ideas that he hasn't tried.

Sighing in defeat, he glared at the sphere in his hand as he hesitantly pressed the button.


End file.
